


The Pink New Deal

by Vibrant_Orchid



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: F/F, Let's Go Lesbians, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25951099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vibrant_Orchid/pseuds/Vibrant_Orchid
Summary: Zan Owlson always thought making business deals could be hard, especially working for the "very real Scotsman" Flintheart Glomgold. However, she finds a new charity deal with Duckington's Phillianne Tropy to be her hardest deal yet, and she has no one but herself and her heart to blame.This was a commission for @weirdkev27 (Tumblr)If you're interested in getting a commission of your own, you can find more information at @vibrantorchid (Tumblr)
Relationships: Zan Owlson/Original Female Character(s), Zan Owlson/Phillianne Tropy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	The Pink New Deal

Like every other event, task, and moment with Flintheart Glomgold, the _Dimes for Ducklings_ charity dinner in Duckington was going to prove both difficult and torturous. This was based on the fact Glomgold was dressed like a sleepless college student and the fact she hated Duckington. The town, although this status was to be debated by the Calisota General Assembly due to financial failure, prominently stood as a clear example of rampant capitalism’s failure to care for the needs of the people. At the center of it’s rot was the Tropy family. At least the miserly Scotsman protected Duckberg, Glomgold kept set designers and mercenaries employed for his schemes, but the Tropy family--the best they did was clean the air a little with their enormous private gardens. She paused her anger briefly when the cab they came in stopped in front of the Duckington Cultural Center, a tax-write off to be sure. 

“I’m going to pay the cab fare while you go change into some sensible clothing.” Zan scoffed.

“I thought this was a charity _dinner_. I don’t want to get my good clothes dirty. After all, I’m vying for the position of Richest Duck in the World, and dry-cleaning is so expensive.”

Zan growled and massaged her temples. “Just take these clothes, go to the lobby bathroom and change!” She tossed the bag of spare clothes she always carried at Glomgold, who scurried off. She had once called herself a glorified secretary but glorified babysitter was a far more apt description.

Her outfit for tonight matched her usual attire, although now it was black for formality. She saw no reason to doll herself up. Tonight wasn’t about having fun or flaunting wealth, it was about convincing the stingiest family in Calisota to join her charity. She straightened her suit and after clearing her throat, stepped through the double doors. Her felt folder was held tightly in her arm.

Zan had a flat expression upon entering. Charity dinners were always the same. A bunch of rich snobs checking off an item on their minuscule list of good deeds as well as a few well-intentioned people on the upper ends of the lower class. The distribution here was no different. Zan always reserved her truly warm welcomes to those who really cared. 

She took a seat at the table reserved for Glomgold Industries, strategically placed on the opposite end of the room as McDuck Enterprise’s table. Zan had planned to start mapping out the next day in her electronic planner but, once again, Glomgold had found a way to interrupt. His time in the bathroom was not long enough. 

“Why are we sitting so far from Scrooge? How am I supposed to mock him and plan my schemes if I can’t even see the man?” Glomgold yelled a bit too loudly for anyone’s comfort. The contents of the table clattered as he banged his fists. 

The stares of the attendees pierced Zan. She shut her eyes and rested her head in her hands. She thought maybe for a moment she could escape the continuous drudgery of working in the shadow of a billionaire. For once she was right, just not in the way she expected. 

“Good evening, everyone! I’m so grateful to see you--and your wallets here tonight.” A voice said from the front of the room before it paused for the typical stilted laughter. 

Zan rolled her eyes. There she was, Phillianne Tropy, the woman who had won the draw to host the charity dinner in her town. No doubt a PR move to distract from a bull-dozed forest or a shut-down orphanage. Zan looked in disgust at her pink tuxedo top. Well, Zan wanted the feeling to be disgust, but she had to admit the color and shade selections were equally playful and practical. Pink was bold, noticeable, and eye-catching-- so was Phillianne. 

The pastel billionaire continued, and Zan found herself entranced by her. “All jokes aside, I truly am grateful for your attendance. As you likely saw on your way here, Duckington is experiencing some dreadful times and what we’ve organized here tonight will certainly be a blessing.”

The stare that came from Zan was cold, but her cheeks flushed warm. She made desperate attempts to be angry at the speech. After all, the Tropy family had ruined this town, and now they begged for money to further their own wealth. However, Zan couldn’t be mad. Phillianne’s words came out so sincerely. 

“Did Phillianne actually care about Duckington and it’s citizens?” Zan thought. “Do I care about Phillianne?” she continued, scared at the implication the question held. 

Zan continued to follow along with the speech. Every word that came from Phillianne bubbled with passion about the people and culture of Duckington. They also carried a heavy guilt. Deep down, Zan held a desire to comfort her, tell her it wasn’t her fault. This push continued until broken by applause. 

With the speech over, Zan let out a soft sigh of relief. Whatever complicated feelings she had towards Phillianne would no longer need to be addressed. All she had to do was get through the rest of the night and-

“Zan? Zan Owlson?” Phillianne beamed. She had come back to her seat after her speech. Her seat just happened to be at the table right next to Zan’s. 

Heat rose from beneath her cheek feathers at the sound of Phillianne saying her name. “Y-yes, its Zan Owlson of Glomgold Industries.” She held out her hand even though it meant an inevitable moment of contact with Phillianne. 

Phillianne shook her hand with an honest smile. Zan thought she had a beautiful smile. “So you’re the founder of _Dimes for Ducklings_ , right?”

Zan gave an unprofessional nod. Phillianne let out a small laugh, although it wasn’t the slightest bit cruel. 

“I heard you were hoping to add the Tropy Foundation to the charity roster.” 

Zan found herself puzzled. Phillianne gracefully opened up negotiations, it had taken weeks for both Scrooge and Glomgold to even reach this point. 

“While I’m interested, I do have some thoughts about changing the structure of the charity, a special case solely for my family’s foundation. Let’s discuss it over a dance.”  
  
Zan’s eyes widened as Phillianne guided her up from her seat and towards the dance floor. Usually, her anger would have instantly flared at the audacity of Phillianne’s suggestion, but Zan couldn’t grasp a solid reason to get angry this time. She had not prepared herself for this much excitement tonight. “Do we really have to do this over a...dance?”

“Of course. The best ideas come to me when I dance.” Phillianne was interrupted by a passing waiter who had bumped into her. 

Zan flinched, expecting Phillianne to blow up and give the poor waiter the scolding of their life. Not a sound was heard. Zan looked up to see Phillianne comforting and apologizing to the waiter. Her heart overflowed. Maybe she did want to dance. 

Phillianne led her by the hand and they slowly circled around the dancefloor. Zan struggled to maintain her business composure as Phillianne held her close. “So I was thinking maybe we could scrap this whole “Dimes” thing. I mean its ridiculous. Dimes? If we can’t do dollars then we should at least do quarters.” Phillianne let go of Zan and motioned her hands to suggest she look. _Quarters for Quacklings_? What do you think about that?” 

Zan paused only for a second, but it felt much longer. Phillianne was generous, kind, and most importantly she cared. She was a dream partner. Dream business partner, Zan quickly corrected. 

“Yes, I think that’s an incredible idea. Although I would need to draft up new paperwork as well as a new letterhead and I-” Zan paused. Phillianne stared at her. 

“You’re really everything I imagined you to be.” the reluctant billionaire said. Her cheeks blushed a shade that matched her outfit. “Can’t we seal the deal now? If it’s okay with you.”

Zan’s confusion lasted briefly once she realized what Phillianne actually meant. “It would only make sense if we did. A positive start to a wonderful new partnership. If that’s what you want.”

“I think that’s exactly what I want,” Phillianne answered. They both smiled before their beaks met in a kiss.  
  



End file.
